Hearts
by Liquid Fire KAN
Summary: Isshin Kurosaki, in the eyes of most, is an utter fool. However, he is far more perceptive, than many believe him to be. Follow his musings on his life, successes, of which there are few, and failures, of which there are plenty. In his opinion anyways.


**Disclaimer: Bleach and all trademarks belong to Kubo Tite.**

**A/N: Damn, when I typed this up it was exactly 999 words long, the irony being that I was listening to 999 by Shiro Sagisu at the time. After editing, it is now 1002 words… Oh well, I suppose it can't be helped. Anyways, this is just an Isshin piece I typed up on my tablet. While I find that many people find him to be a terrible father, I think it is quite the contrary. Sure he's done some stupid things, but I don't think that in itself should be the sole judge of his character.**

**At any rate, I am certain there is more to his backstory than meets the eyes and this piece features my twist on it, but only if you squint a bit. There are no true spoilers, and no pairings… Well, maybe if you squint a little, but aside from that it's just an Isshin-centric story, because I find his character to be quite intriguing.**

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><p><strong>Hearts<strong>

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><p>He slept, dried tears streaking down his round face. Every now and silent sobs would wrack his small frame, a few more tears escaping his eyes.<p>

Even occasionally a muffled choking of sorts could be heard, at which point a man would gently lift the sleeping child, soothing him, in a manner most unbecoming of himself. The child would be calm once more, and he would leave, closing the door behind him.

After a while, it fell out of habit. The late night crying ceased and the visits to his son's room became infrequent and sporadic. It stopped altogether eventually.

At fifteen, Kurosaki Ichigo stood at quite an impressionable height. His physique was far from lacking, and his exploits were almost legend. He was, in the eyes of his classmates, superhuman - virtually indestructible, and for the most part an unstoppable force of nature.

In the matter of tussling with thugs among other folk, they were quite right.

Still Isshin Kurosaki thought otherwise. From day to day, he would hear of his son's prowess and brilliance, and feel a roaring gush of pride. For the same reason, he would also feel remorse.

Only because of his errors had his son became the man he was. That wasn't necessarily a bad thing. In fact it was quite good. It proved to him that his son could adapt well, so that, should the time come, he could explain, without altercation, that which he should have explained so long ago.

The time came too soon for his liking.

Just as his son reached the ripe age of sixteen, things were set into motion. On Ichigo's part, there were late night outings, which he prayed none would notice.

But Isshin Kurosaki was no idiot, despite what others may have believed. Perhaps his goofy antics had led individuals to think that. Quite frankly, he could not bring himself to care. In that regard, he was like his son. Or rather, his son was like him, in more ways than he would have liked.

For one, he was incredibly dense.

He smiled sadly. Maybe that wasn't it. Truthfully he wasn't dense at all; just unwilling to open up, and display emotion.

His son was a reflection on that aspect of himself.

It wasn't an instant transformation, of course. As with most, it was slow and gradual. And for all his attentiveness, he felt like kicking himself for not paying closer attention to his own son.

Someone like him... who always knew when danger was coming, could not even protect his own son. In that, there was guilt, of not being able to save the people he loved the most - his wife and firstborn.

She died, and his son had cried.

When it finally stopped, his son had become him, and there was nothing that could be done about that. All he could do was stand by and watch, his own life in replay, hoping ever so dearly that his son would triumph over that which he could not.

He did.

Ichigo defeated Aizen, but at a cost so great. The loss of Ichigo's powers and the regaining of his own had created a rift he could not ever cross. So he watched as the boundaries were established once more, his son growing distant.

The warmth in his heart at watching his son progress was wiped away, replaced with a cold numbness. To protect himself from heartbreak as his son struggled agonizingly he presumed.

If there ever was one thing Isshin never could stand to see his children suffer, so the facade returned for a while.

Life went on.

Seventeen months passes, and time it seemed, had started up once more. The progress he and his son had backtracked on had been remade with so much more.

Still he dare not smile just yet, for fear, that the truth would destroy them so entirely. Even so, he could not run, nor could he hide from it, but only when the day would come, speak it; nothing more, nothing less.

Facing his son, words spilled out of his mouth on the battlefield that should have never been, likely destroying the son he never deserved. The man who never wore his heart on his sleeve cried at that. He cried for the wife he had lost, the son he had lost, and the life he had lost in his own stupidity.

Most of all he cried for the life his family, if not him, had deserved.

His son was gone, his wife was gone, and his daughters would be gone soon.

He was gone, merely an empty shell fighting blindly onwards, his heart gone from him. There was a blast, a light, and he saw nothing.

Had he been sentenced to hell, Isshin would have been happy. Yet an infernal light was all that was present, for the longest of times.

It faded, into the smiling face of his son, and the world clicked back into place. Never before had he felt as alive as he did in that moment, and in that, he returned a small smile.

Everything was over. The war had ended.

A petite woman drags his son alongside herself, laughing along with him and everyone else the merriment just beginning.

Fireworks extend into the early morning hours. He does not attend that party. Although he is made anew, he is still penitent. For all he has done, happiness is an emotion he does not deserve to ever experience.

Still he grins, as Ichigo grins tiredly elsewhere.

The two men afraid to wear their hearts on their sleeves have done pretty well, and Isshin concludes that, that in itself is reward enough for a father, however much of failure.

His wife had believed in him this whole time hadn't she? He laughs freely, and the wind echoes her laugh. She is here. She has always been here; he has just not wanted to listen.

Isshin smiles once more as the sun rises.

They have done quite well.

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><p><strong>AN: Nothing much to say, aside from read and review. I hope you enjoyed my take on Isshin. I rather enjoyed giving him a bit more depth than what the manga is currently portraying. Nonetheless, I am certain the Kubo's ideas will make much more sense than my ramblings.**

**~ LiquidFire KAN**


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